


Yorktown

by as_with_a_sunbeam



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1781, Gen, Yorktown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9903293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/as_with_a_sunbeam/pseuds/as_with_a_sunbeam
Summary: Hamilton goes over Lafayette's head to get command at Yorktown. Lafayette is hardly pleased. Only, Hamilton is frustratingly difficult to stay angry with for long.





	

“You have to change the order.”

Major General Lafayette started badly behind his desk, looking up to find Colonel Hamilton glowering down at him. He’d been so engrossed with the plans that he hadn’t heard his friend come in. Not that he was surprised. He’d known this would happen.

“What order, Colonel?” he asked, though he knew very well to which order Hamilton was objecting. Mentioning rank was a deliberate attempt to establish distance from his old bosom companion in his command tent as he prepared for battle.

“Fayette, please. You have to give me command. It’s my last chance.” Hamilton’s eyes were wide and earnest. He’d barreled over military correctness and gone straight for nicknames.

He loved Hamilton deeply, and he felt terrible at disappointing him now, but he remained firm in his decision. Colonel Jean-Joseph de Gimat had stood beside Lafayette through every storm. Not only was Gimat one of his closest companions and a fellow Frenchman, but he had infinitely more field command experience than Hamilton, who had none.

“You will have a command,” Lafayette assured him. “You will serve with Colonel Laurens just under Colonel Gimat.” _See_ , he tried to plead with his eyes, _you will have an equal position with your dearest John._

“I outrank Colonel Gimat,” Hamilton insisted stubbornly. Technically true, though years of writing letters for their intrepid commander did nothing to back the rank up with experience on the line. “And I am to be officer of the day on the date of the attack. I deserve the command.”

Lafayette found himself bristling at the defiant tone. Hamilton was his friend, and a dear friend at that, but he was bordering on disrespectful now.

“I have issued my orders, Colonel. It is done.”

“I intend to appeal to General Washington,” Hamilton informed him.

Lafayette had to force down a spiteful laugh at that. Washington could hardly speak Hamilton’s name without turning red with fury. And he’d never reverse Lafayette’s orders. “General Washington signed off on my orders himself.”

Hamilton huffed, eyes blazing. He executed a salute that, while technically flawless, had the air of a rude gesture. Then, he stalked from the tent, the material flapping loudly in his wake.

 

~*~

 

“My dear Marquis.”

Lafayette again started badly, looking up this time to find General Washington standing before him. He hopped to his feet and saluted, wondering how everyone was managing to sneak into his tent today. Thankfully no British soldiers had yet made the attempt.

“ _Mon cher_ General,” Lafayette greeted. “I did not hear you come in.”

Washington nodded and gestured for him to sit. He lowered into the chair across from Lafayette and sighed heavily. “I needed to speak with you privately about a sensitive matter, my boy.”

“Of course, sir,” Lafayette agreed, giving his beloved commander his full attention.

“I am going to change your orders regarding the American attack on redoubt ten,” Washington informed him.

Lafayette raised an eyebrow. Change his orders? Which…wait.

“Regarding command, sir?” he asked.

“Yes,” Washington confirmed his suspicion. Hamilton, that ungrateful, traitorous little snake, had actually succeeded.

“Colonel Hamilton is lacking in practical field command experience. Colonel Gimat has won many battles for us. Colonel Hamilton has won none,” Lafayette argued immediately.

Washington’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You are being unkind, General. Colonel Hamilton served ably as an artillery Captain for a year before he entered my service. His artillery allowed our army to escape New York intact during the retreat. He has since served beside both of us through many battles.”

Lafayette knew all this, of course. In fact, not a year ago he’d been on the other side of the argument, trying to convince the commander to promote Hamilton to General. However, the sting of Hamilton’s disrespect, of his going over Lafayette’s head, of it actually working, all swirled together to make Lafayette feel very unkind.

“He was not in command for any of those battles, sir. Colonel Gimat is the superior choice. Colonel Hamilton should serve under him,” Lafayette insisted, hoping he didn't sound as petulant as he felt.

“He was not in command because I would not allow him to be,” Washington replied evenly, though his eyes looked a touch saddened. “But if you insist that Colonel Hamilton is incompetent to lead the battalion, I will of course heed your advice.”

Lafayette felt a flicker of triumph.

“I assume you have no objection to Colonel Laurens taking over? He has a great deal of field experience.”

Lafayette’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Sir?”

“You may recall when I entered I referred to the American attack on redoubt ten. The French will take redoubt nine, you will command the American forces, Rochambeau will cut the British off a sea. Redoubt ten is an American attack. I cannot allow a French Colonel to head it.”

Face flushing a tad, Lafayette nodded his understanding. America was fighting for her independence. The French, in aiding her, threatened to overwhelm and overshadow her. An American must be given pride of place in this fight.

“I am glad you understand, son,” Washington smiled tightly at him. “I will issue orders to Colonel Laurens. Would you prefer to undertake the task of informing Colonel Gimat?”

Lafayette nodded vaguely, his mind spinning. Washington was standing up to leave. Lafayette felt something sick and sour growing in his stomach. Hamilton had been one of his dearest friends from the time he arrived in America. He was sweet and loving and loyal and brave. His time on Washington’s staff had done more to aid the war effort than it was possible to fathom, and it had robbed him of the chance to prove his worth on the battlefield.

Hamilton, the orphan boy with no money or titles. Hamilton, who’d told him time and again that the only way to insure he didn’t end up back as a clerk in some sweaty counting house was to earn a name for himself in the war.

Laurens had already earned a name for himself. Laurens didn’t even need to make a name for himself, but he had. His father had been president of the Congress. He was from one of the wealthiest families in South Carolina, perhaps in the whole of America.

Hamilton loved Laurens. He would fight for him. He would do his duty. Of that, Lafayette had no doubt.

Hamilton would never speak to Lafayette again. Their friendship would be dead. Of that, he also had no doubt.

“ _Mon_ General, wait,” he called.

He was still furiously angry with Hamilton, but he couldn’t be this cruel.

 

~*~

 

Hamilton’s smug grin when General Washington issued the orders made anger ignite in Lafayette all over again. He’d ordered Hamilton to meet him in his tent within the hour and stalked away. Hamilton had obeyed him in arriving swiftly. He’d agreed easily to Lafayette’s demand that Gimat be given what would have been Hamilton’s place in the battle. Running quickly over the plan, Lafayette gruffly dismissed Hamilton within the space of fifteen minutes.

“Fayette?” Hamilton’s voice sounded small and uncertain. He’d already been dismissed. Lafayette fought to contain his anger at this latest show of disrespect. He’d never linger like this with Washington. Not even with Knox or Greene.

Lafayette did not respond, keeping his nose down to his work.

“Fayette? Are…are you angry with me?”

He snapped his head up with blazing eyes. Hamilton was supposed to be so smart. Surely, he’d figure it out. The smaller man shrunk back at the intense glare. Lafayette felt satisfaction in knocking him down a peg.

“I really need this,” Hamilton tells him. “I need to establish myself. But…I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Lafayette nodded once, sharply. He added, in a curt tone, “Dismissed, Colonel.”

Hurt flickered across Hamilton’s face. He nodded once as well, saluted more genuinely this time, and turned to take his leave. As Hamilton exited, he whispered, “Love you.”

Lafayette hesitated a moment too long. Before he could respond, Hamilton was gone. 

 

~*~

 

Lafayette found himself seated in Washington’s tent that night, awaiting news of their efforts. Both the French and American troops had set off at the burst of the rockets. Now, the commander and the young Major General could do nothing but trust to their countrymen and wait.

The whisper repeats in his head, over and over. Love you. The sort of thing you said to a friend when there was a chance you may never see each other again. When there was a chance a British soldier may gut you with a bayonet before dawn.

Lafayette had been aiming to wound. Hamilton had responded with love. The young Frenchman decided that Hamilton wasn’t meant for fighting. But he was fighting. That very moment, he was running to a parapet with an unloaded musket.

“ _Mon Dieu_ ,” he whispered, leaning forward in his seat. What would he do, if his dear friend died in the battle, and he hadn’t told him that he loved him too?

“Lafayette?” Washington asked with concern.

“I didn’t tell him I loved him,” Lafayette gasped with the air of a confession.

Washington looked puzzled, but remained quiet while Lafayette gathered his thoughts.

“Hammie said he loved me when he was leaving my tent. I didn’t say it back. I should have said it back.”

“Son,” Washington interjected his ramble calmly, “slow down.”

“What if he dies?” Lafayette cried, holding a shaking hand to his mouth.

Washington fixed him with a firm look. “He will not die.” From anyone else it would have been an empty assurance. Washington expressed it as a command, with full confidence it would be carried out. Lafayette looked at him hopefully.

 “He will not die,” Lafayette repeated softly.

 

~*~

 

He did not die, as it turned out. Lafayette fought a grin as he saw Hamilton trudging his way back towards the command tent, the battle an undeniable success. British prisoners were being marched to temporary accommodations nearby looking taciturn and confused. From the initial report Lafayette had from Nicholas Fish, there had been hardly any bloodshed.

“Colonel Hamilton,” Lafayette called to draw his attention.

Hamilton looked over at him with wide eyes, then turned back to look at Laurens. Laurens nodded him onward after clapping him firmly on the back. Lafayette wondered if it were congratulatory or for encouragement. Perhaps both, he decided.

Hamilton paused before the opening to Washington’s tent. Lafayette preceded him inside, grinning unabashedly at the General. Washington returned the expression with his eyes.

“Congratulations are in order, Colonel,” Washington stated when Hamilton entered.

Hamilton gave the commander a sharp salute. “It was only my duty, sir,” Hamilton replied. “Would you like a full report now, sir?”

“No, I think not. Give it in writing tomorrow. For now, go enjoy some rest. You’ve quite earned it.”

Hamilton paid the General an endearing little half smile before saluting once more. “Am I dismissed, then, sir?”

Washington hesitated for a beat. His eye flicked towards Lafayette for a moment before he replied, “No. I believe the Marquis wishes a word with you in private. I will be inspecting  the perimeter, if either of you have need of me.”

And with that, Washington swept from the room, leaving them alone.

Hamilton’s bright eyes were on him again. He looked almost fearful, which was entirely ridiculous. Lafayette tried to decide what to say, then gave up, took two steps forward, and engulfed his friend in a bear hug. A surprised puff of air was expelled from Hamilton’s mouth and his arms hung slack at his sides for several heartbeats. Finally, his arms came up to return the hug.

“ _Je t’aime mon petit lion_ ,” Lafayette whispered. “I should have said that before.”

Lafayette felt Hamilton’s shoulders shrug slightly in the embrace. “Is that what this is about?” He sounded skeptical. “You were angry with me. I don’t blame you for not saying it.”

“ _Oui._ I was very angry. But it did not stop me loving you. It was wrong of me to act as though it did.”

Lafayette pulled away and saw Hamilton’s eyes brighter than natural in the flickering candlelight of the tent. Hamilton cleared his throat, then offered, “Laurens said he had some rum stashed away. Would you like to join us?”

Lafayette nodded. “I would like this very much.”  

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I adore the high-five moment in the play, I think it's interesting that Hamilton really did need to go over Lafayette's head to get command. That had to make for some tense conversations going in to the battle. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Feedback always appreciated!


End file.
